A special kind of ugly.

Before I did Twin Peaks, I filmed a Roger Corman movie in Lima, Peru. It was called Crime Zone, and it was a futuristic, post-apocalyptic action love story. The lead character's names were Bone [absurd, I know] and Helen. Which was my grandmothers name. I must admit that it was forgettable and remains so to this day. Even for me. I cannot remember what it was about or what drew me to it. Maybe I was just not getting the roles I wanted and this was post Two Moon Junction so anything was better than that. But the experience of shooting however,was very memorable and has a story to tell.

The only notable person in the film was David Carradine. He would be there for the shortest amount of time. In and out, filming his scenes as quick as possible. The first time they made me up in my Madonna look, short platinum blond hair, bustier and all, he simply looked at me and uttered from his perpetual drunken stupor ," Now that's gilding the lily."

I do remember that my character, Helen was strong. She was not taking shit from anyone. She was a whore of course, its Hollywood after all. And she got to dance which was a lot of fun. The production embraced me and my super short blond hair and in return, I embraced them. After a meeting with the Latino director, I was offered the role. But there would be a price to pay. There always was.

This was only my second trip to a third world country. It was difficult, and I was sick the entire time I was down there. It is impossible to avoid the water, try as you may. I have many memories of being hunched down in a ball holding my aching belly. The one sentence I learned which was essential to my trip there was,"Donde esta bano?" For those who don't know : this simply means where is the bathroom.

Then there was the director, who married as he was, still pursued me with a vengeance. It is a delicate line to walk with a Latino man, the director, in HIS country, me being maybe 21ish and trying to get through a difficult shoot. He was married to a really sweet and beautiful young woman. We even had a friendship of sorts. This, of course meant little to nothing in his eyes. She was a prize he had won and now he was on the hunt to conquer me . I am sure I was not the first he pursued, nor the last.

As is always the case, there was a few beautiful people working on the film. I refer to them as bright lights, angels there to help in whatever ways they could. One was my make up artist. I cannot remember her name but she was so kind, like a Momma or a Grandma. I will refer to her from now on as my angel. She had short blond hair like my own. But I was only a third of her age. I will never forget her. She would call me her,"Ninnita, poquitta, chicka- ditta." And demonstrate with her hands that I was a little, young one.... And I was.

She loved me and cared for me with language barrier fully in tact. We communicated with our eyes and our hands. We loved each other and felt oddly related. I can see her face in my mind's eye.... I could tell when she was inevitably having a bad day and would help however I could. And she did the same for me when things got tough on the set. But she was an older woman in an old school Latino man's world. So the help she could give was limited for her. But she helped in the best way possible, she comforted me and loved me and walked through everything I did like an angel at my side. Expressing and reflecting it all in her blue eyes.

Making this movie was guerrilla filmaking at its finest. So redunkulous. Trying to be futuristic, post apocalyptic with no money in Peru was hysterical at times and tragic at others. It was a comedy of errors.

As I continued to put the director off, he became more frustrated and resentful. One day he took me out to get an ice cream under the guise of talking about the film, then expressed his frustration to me. I was at the time madly in love with my first, Johnny. I was NOT on the market in any way. I had developed a friendship with one of the actors (I shall refer to him as M.S.) who was a "bad guy" in the film. Not the love interest. I went to him at times for advice around this situation. We had actually bonded and become friends, or so I thought.

One night in the bar that had become our home away from home, M.S. and i were hanging out. What with no tv and a front door to the hotel that was firmly bolted closed with a thick lead bar after 9 pm, this was the place to connect with others. It was a resturant/bar. The steak entrecote saved my ass the entire time we were there. It was a steak covered with about 40 cloves of garlic and I ate it with a vengenance hoping the garlic would kill all the parasites that seemed to be invading my body at an alarming pace.

In addition to the food and drink the bar offered some interesting entertainment. There was a nightly show that proved to be quite the spectacle to behold while it lasted. D.Carradine and his wife, Antoinette set up camp in the bar 24/7. They drank like fish and this was their aquarium. Antoinette, literally danced half dressed on the tables. Enough alcohol consumed it was always the same. The shoes would come off and it was on. Always encouraging all that would listen to join them in yet another round. Gilded lily or not, we were all invited. If they were sick during their stint in Lima it could only have been alcohol poison. Nothing else could live under those conditions I believe.

On one fateful night my hanging out with M.S turned into an argument. My intuition was rearing its head again and I with no tact was on it. He was obsessed with becoming a star. And I felt he might not make it. [Which, by the by, he did not] So as he went on and on, I said ...Well what if you don't become a star. What will you do? What else interests you? I will be, he demanded. But I kept pushing and it went on and on and on. Stalemate.

Even given this disagreement the evening did not end bad. We had built a friendship where we shared truth with one another. It was just a feeling that I had and I was trying to get him to look at other options. Few aspiring actors actually do make it. I was not trying to hurt him but get him to expand his vision, young as I was. He was a bit older than I, maybe in his early 30's. I can't be sure because he hid his age like most in Hollywood do. With the exception of moi. I am 44 and will be 45 on Feb 1.

By now, my rejection of the directors endless come-ons had made him angry. A deep, seething anger from a man that usually got what he wanted especially in his own country. But I was different. I'm Ammeerriikin!!! So he decided to write a new scene for the film. A scene where my friend M.S. basically attacks me. He had observed that M.S. and I had become close and was jealous of that as well.

The scene was awful and unnecessary. M.S. basically sticks his hand up my short skirt and then at a later point in the abuse tries to choke me. I immediately saw what the director was doing. I was young but not stupid. He wanted to see me hurt. He and his ego were transparent but only to me. I was playing Helen and she was tough so I put on my mask and went for it. I would not let him get to me.

M.S. saw this as a big opportunity for him. A big scene to show his stuff. He assumed that it was written because he was doing so well in his role that the producers wanted more of him in the film. His sad and desperate desire was misleading him again. Led astray as he was, he took advantage of his moment completely. The director was wise enough to have seen his desperate need to be a star and that combined with our budding friendship fueled with his crushed ego. He proceeded to exploit and blow apart whatever had been built in the past month. And now had a partner in crime.

The scene felt like a rape of sorts. As many have over the years. The director did take after take after take, enjoying my pain. Physical and emotional as it was. An actor must never hurt another actor. Here in fucking Lima, Peru [as I had grown fond of calling it] all of this unwritten etiquette was gone out the window. It was a surreal experience that I just kept willing myself to get through. I remember seeing my angel arguing with the director but not knowing why.... This actor, if you can call him that was desperate. He hurt me in a number of different ways that night on the set. In the name of a career that never would be.

When we finally finished the scene, I ran out of the nasty warehouse we were shooting in. I will never forget it. My angel tried to stop me with tears in her eyes..... I motioned that I needed some space. She hovered from afar, standing guard to the best of her abilities. I ran out of the building and as far as I could get. I have often bolted I realize and run as far and as fast as I can. As if I can escape the ugliness I am a part of.

Exhausted, I kind of squatted down in the weeds that were at least 2 feet tall. I cried and cried but then I looked at the blue black sky with the moon shining brightly. A peace fell over me. There was a defining silence, a loud hummmmm. I felt connected to God. I had survived, I thought. They can hurt me and my body but they cannot ever hurt or touch my soul. I will heal and just fly away like a bird. I will fly away....

I do not like to look in mirrors on the set. So when I got back to my room i was astonished as i went to take a shower and wash all the ugliness off of my body that I had bruises up and down my neck. This motherfucker had been bruising me. And he could not be doing the scene over and over and not SEE what he was doing to me. Now I understood more of what my angel had been speaking aggressively about to the director. I was livid. I called M.S. and told him what a pathetic schmuck he was. It was incredible to me what lengths one would go to for fame.

The rest of the shoot was not so connected emotionally. I showed up, professional as always and got out as quick as possible. M.S. had been revealed for who he really was. Just full of B.S. My beloved man, my first love eternally Johnny, showed up and we got engaged. He came immediately when I shared the hell I had been through. I flew away with my soul intact. I flew jut like I knew I could....

I had learned firsthand how ugly that kind of desperate need for fame was. I knew I did not have that inside of me. Nor would I ever. I was not sure at that point why I was acting or if I even wanted to keep doing it. That was a special kind of ugly. One that I never wanted to grow inside of me. And it never did.

R.Rachel and V.Vicky deconstructed.

It is essential that before reading this blog you have read 2 others. First: " I have rage." Then : "Introducing Raging Rachel and Vicious Vicky." In this blog, I will attempt to show how these parts of me informed [ sometimes subtly sometimes NOT so subtly] the "I have rage" blog. To illustrate for you and for me the insidious nature of their brilliance. By analyzing and exposing it, I hope to chip away at not being held hostage by these two anymore. And possibly give them the love that they are ultimately seeking. Because I believe that love is really ALL there is.

Form here on in:

The original blog shall remain in black.

Rachel's voice will be written about and comment on in this red.

Vicky's voice will be written about and commented on in this green.

Back to purple to sum it all up.

And away we go......

I am feeling rage right now. I am infuriated by peoples sleep and lack of need to be honest. People who walk through life with their mask firmly in place. Maybe I am SO mad because I did it for so long. I don't know . It ALWAYS has to do with us I feel. But I do know that it threatens to rip apart SO much in my life.

Here Rachel proudly introduces herself with part of her name RAGING Rachel. Proud of her name, her calling card. Judging of others, she is simply superior and all are beneath her. False humility that MAYBE she did it but only MAYBE. There always is an accusation to all the lame "others" that do this and are below her. It threatens to rip her life apart and is her threat, and her intention.

I am no good at saying things tactfully. But I am working on it. I call it as I see it, and as you have heard me say, I get in big trouble for that. And yet, I do not give a shit . I want to be with peeps who get me and who speak their truth as well. They do not have to agree with me. In fact it's better when they do not for I can learn from another perspective. But they must have the courage to say what's up. Truthfully.

This is Vicky. She is the wiser of the two. Less obvious and more covert. They say with twins in the womb, the stronger and smarter one pushes the other out first to get a lay of the land, check to see if its safe. This is she. Here she feigns honesty. She fluctuates between seeing herself and saying she is right and will continue just as she has in the past. She enlists others to do as she does. Tempts others, are you at MY level?! She acts as if she wants others to disagree with her but will take you down when you do. And ends with the most distorted word of all....truthfully.

I seriously would rather be alone than deal with bullshit small talk, jokes and lies. For me, peeps come together to share TRUTH not false bravado. I am bored by the human condition and no longer am claiming it as my own.

More Vicky here again. Elitist and better than all. Again with the T word. Setting herself outside of the human condition. That takes a special kind of ego.

I step OUT of the tribe and that condition. In fact, I RUN out of it. I would rather be alone with my truth then surrounded by masses in their collective sleep. Their collective fear. Their masks. Their collective bullshit. I am declaring that I am officially over it all. I say this to the universe and all who care to listen.

Now she is picking up steam in her self-righteousness. And isolating into being alone just the way she likes it with nobody to question her dogmatic thinking. Their this and their that. Such judgement, I am great she seems to scream. I am above it all. She is obviously really scared and frightened that she is none of these things. True power does not behave this way. It does not need to. It, like the statues of Christ, bows his head in humility of his power. [just a reference, don't freak]

I am fueled by the support I have gotten from having the courage to actually put my truth out there. This is a part of each and everyone of you. And has been reflected in my shares. Not "blogs" but shares. I am here only to illuminate MY human struggle in hopes that a) I can be clearer and that b) you can be touched and inspired to declare your own.

Vicky, Vicky, icky Vicky. Self important, self righteous, selfish and self involved. Its all about me. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Her sheep has also been consumed by this wolf. The lamb represents the soul. The wolf the instinctive, animalistic body. The lamb and the wolf must learn to lay together.

Nobody is better than or more important a person than ANYONE else!! And celebrity does not mean shit. I know this to be true. I hope you do too. Sending love and light out in a crazy time here on this planet and in this lifetime.

Well, I have learned a few things. That Vicky is far more prevalent and in charge than Rachel. That Rachel's bark is worse than her bite. That the brilliance and danger resides more in the vicious part that is so smart. Like a lawyer she twists things to suit her. She enlists others to do the same. And the word "truth" is always peppering her fights.

And yet, I am not certain this is all true. It seems to be evolving. Maybe Vicky is the weaker of the two. I guess I don't really know. Maybe they dance between the two. There seems to be some biblical references that came out of me. Oh well, they just did. If they offend, so be it. Rachel or Vicky.

I wonder where these voices come from. A person in my life from my past? Or just born to protect me? I feel as a child I was never heard, so once I was big enough to be heard I may have developed these two sisters. I also feel now as I walk through this process that [as a wise reader of my blog shared] maybe they do not need to be killed. As Rachel suggested. But to be loved and tamed.

I do not know how to do that for now. I take it all one day at a time. I try to not be as reactive, that is certain. I believe there is a collective body of fear and negativity that once I go that far into, makes it even harder to get out of.

So this self analysis done, I go into my day. Hopefully all the more wise, or at least a little bit more wise. And with more compassion.....for me and all the characters that inhabit me.

Introducing Raging Rachel and Vicious Vicky

So through my never ending self inquiry I have recently discovered that I have two evil twins that live inside of my head. I have named them Raging Rachel and Vicious Vicky. They are just what their names say they are. You don't ever want to meet them, I promise you that. I think they may have had a hand in writing my last blog, "I have rage."

At the moment they are hurling insults at me that I dare even write this for the world to read. "As if the world reads YOUR blog," they shout. But one of my dearest friends and teachers Roy London taught me that I must grab my demons & monsters by the head and pull them out of the cave to get a good look at them. He said doing that will diminish their power. And so I shall.

I believe that it is essential to learn ones truth and to share it BUT not to bludgeon people with it as I do sometimes. This word is very potent for me : bludgeon as I first read it used in a book about a the serial killer, Ted Bundy. He was the stereotype, a typical somewhat good looking white man who had taken it to the street.

During one of his horrific killing sprees after he had already killed one person ( that not having been enough to fill his hole) he fled with the blood of one victim still on his hands to some college girls apt, grabbed what he could find, a piece of firewood and "bludgeoned" two more to death.

Over the years of my life Rachel and Vicky have reared their ugly heads up too many times to count, hurt too many people and got me in awful situations in the name of the truth. That is you see part of their brilliance. They say....well its the truth. Like J. Nicholson,"You cant handle the truth!!!" They snarl and spit like mad dogs with self righteous arrogance.

A part of me hides when they come out. I am actually afraid of them too. When they thought I would fail at something, they have suggested different ways to hurt myself to avoid things. Thank God I did not listen. At least in this moment I cannot think of a time I did. And yet because I allowed the attacks to place, I guess I did listen. Ugh. "Shame on you!" My grandma would say if she were still alive.

You see for a long time now, I thought this was strength. What a load of shit. Another lie I was telling to myself. It is true weakness to attack anyone at anytime with your own unexamined and misplaced rage. I am over it. I will no longer allow Rachel and Vicky to weave their tangled webs. I need an exorcism. Know any good shamans?

It is dark nights of the soul when one sees themselves truly. Or maybe that is just my experience. I am not a bad person but I can be quite hurtful when they take over. They come out when I feel hurt or threatened. They say the meanest things imaginable. I often get attacked by them as I am right now. Nobody wants to show the ugly parts of themselves but I defer to my teacher because he has never led me astray.

They have appointed themselves to stand guard over my heart and never let anyone get too close. Only my kids are really close to me. And my Dylan has gotten closer than anyone but at a great price. We are meant to be transformational in each others lives. And that we are. But I have hurt him so. I wonder why he is still here. And thank GOD everyday.

The twins work hard at having a self fulfilling prophecy: That I am not lovable, that all men leave, that I am worthless. They have come a breath away from bringing this to fruition. Now they are being exposed. I had done so well for awhile, then last night they came out in full force. I find them to be stronger, darker and at their worse as I consume wine. I have chosen to stop that. Its like a dark energy comes with it.

I feel that the world has great light coming in right now. But that makes us be able to see more of the dark. Huge polarities exist and for me I must be so cautious. And conscious. And connected to the light and my truth. The true truth, not the one the twins preach. The one centered on love and compassion.

If only one could just set down their baggage from childhood. Like returning from a trip, walking up the driveway, into your front door and just putting down the suitcase. The relief of it. The feeling of lightness one feels. I long for it and am actively working to do just that. This has been 44 yrs of this shit.

It seems I have been fighting for so long in my life. I keep waiting for the chapter where it all gets really good. But happiness only comes in moments for me. Rachel and Vicky are too threatened by real joy and happiness.

They know that now that they are exposed, they will die. I am killing them. Putting them to sleep like an old dog that is sick and it is at the point where it is the only humane thing left to do.

So this is their swan song. What was born to protect a child from fucked situations ,now is at war with me the grown woman and happiness in my life. They will not win. They are old and are being put down. I will not miss them for unlike a dog, they were never friends even to me. They are my worst enemies.

I am sure some may read this and feel I am really fucked up. Emotionally unstable. And sometimes I am, like you aren't?!!! hehehe What I am is a living, breathing woman who is looking at herself and working hard to transform into the woman I have always wanted to be. A woman who lives NOT from her head but from her heart.

I have rage....

I am feeling rage right now. I am infuriated by peoples sleep and lack of need to be honest. People who walk through life with their mask firmly in place. Maybe I am SO mad because I did it for so long. I don't know . It ALWAYS has to do with us I feel. But I do know that it threatens to rip apart SO much in my life.

I am no good at saying things tactfully. But I am working on it. I call it as I see it, and as you have heard me say, I get in big trouble for that. And yet, I do not give a shit . I want to be with peeps who get me and who speak their truth as well. They do not have to agree with me. In fact its better when they do not for I can learn from another perspective. But they must have the courage to say whats up. Truthfully.

I seriously would rather be alone than deal with bullshit small talk, jokes and lies. For me, peeps come together to share TRUTH not false bravado. I am bored by the human condition and no longer am claiming it as my own.

I step OUT of the tribe and that condition. In fact, I RUN out of it. I would rather be alone with my truth then surrounded by masses in their collective sleep. Their collective fear. Their masks. Their collective bullshit. I am declaring that I am officially over it all. I say this to the universe and all who care to listen.

I am fueled by the support I have gotten from having the courage to actually put my truth out there. This is a part of each and everyone of you. And has been reflected in my shares. Not "blogs" but shares. I am here only to illuminate MY human struggle in hopes that a. I can be clearer and that b. you can be touched and inspired to declare your own.

Nobody is better than or more important a person than ANYONE else!! And celebrity does not mean shit. I know this to be true. I hope you do too. Sending love and light out in a crazy time here on this planet and in this lifetime.

The job that changed my life

When I was about 22 or 23 I believe.... I had been kicking around in Hollywoodland for a few years. Getting a few roles here and there. Sometimes being exploited and feeling quite disillusioned. I just wasn't passionate about the work yet. I had not met the teacher that would change my relationship to acting and ultimately my life. The late, great Roy London. Or gotten the job that would do the same. Giving me the opportunity to swim in the greatness and brilliance of others. That was about to change.

It was about this time that I had met a manager who said a some things that had a profound effect on me. In all honesty she was pursuing me because of my ex boyfriend Johnny . I believe she hoped to connect with him. She did not know the status of our relations, that we were no longer together and I did not tell her. It was OK because in the process of her working the angle, I got valuable, desperately needed input. Some tangible tools that would help to the trajectory of my career.

I was at that point so desperate to be liked and to be loved and to be seen. ugh, yes, still. I would go to auditions and when the casting directors would ask the perfunctory,"Do you have any questions about the character?" A question that they NEVER want you to answer with anything other than NO. I would answer with,"Well, how do you see her?" Naively hopeful that if I could fulfill their vision I might get the job and get the validation I seemed to constantly need.

This is disastrous for an actor. You see, the key to great acting I was later to discover is to illuminate the human struggle. YOUR human struggle. YOUR life. YOUR direct experience. No ones imagination is as interesting as the plain truth. To look at something about your life that you are actually dealing with in that time. Not some bullshit past, dog that died in childhood thing. Not that I am knocking The Method, but I am.

It was relevant when it came into being, which was the 1950's. But we are ,as a world and a society a far cry from that . Back then it was remarkable for a man to show emotion at all. Now people, sometimes complete strangers give us more information about their personal life than we ever want to know. With the exploitation of lives and emotional unrest everywhere on supposed reality tv.

So there I was, desperate to please and be liked and most of all....get the job. The results...not so great. I got harsh feedback at times. One heartbreaking one I remember was that I lacked depth and intensity. Or a common one, that I was too green. Funny because now one cannot not be too green. I wonder what they say to the newbies now.

It hurt me deeply yet I also knew a lot of their criticism was correct. And I simply did not have the tools to actually change it. This is where the manager came into play. She had invited me to her annual Christmas party. I got all dressed to the nines and showed up. Scared..... and more than likely I slipped in and out of my shy/mute state as there were celebrities everywhere. I was Johnnyless which I am sure did not make the manager happy.

I can only remember Willem Dafoe being there. I liked him and his work. But I felt nervous because he had done Platoon with Johnny. At a certain point during the filming while they were in the Philippines I had broken up in what was essentially a dear john letter. Literally and figuratively. Only to come back together once he returned.

I had just felt abandoned by him. He was my first love and for him to go and be gone for 2 months was more than my lack of maturity could tolerate. So what that he wrote me and sent pictures from the film with my name written across his helmet. Still, I wanted to hurt him and I had. I always intended to be with him when he returned. Upon his return we immediately holed up in a hotel close to the airport and came back together.

So Willem Dafoe represented a difficult time in my life and every time I looked at him, I felt it. I don't even think he noticed me. I believe the wonderful Andy Garcia was there as well. But I cannot be certain. I stayed for a bit, drank some vino and then escaped.

Escape is an apropos word because I have never been a social creature. I isolate, that is just me. I don't like bullshit and small talk. I still avoid really social situations. Unless it is with like minded people and we can have real conversation. This is limiting and I am trying to look at it a different way. I am trying to look between the lines, share whatever and know sometimes that is enough. I don't have to have poignant conversation all the time. And I am learning to laugh again and have fun.

A few days later, I was summoned to the managers office for a meeting. Maybe she wanted to rep me? I was excited with the ever present nerves of a young Michigan girl who was completely out of here element. I never in a million years would have thought that I would be an actress when I was a young person. Never. I did not choose it, it chose me.

She did not want to rep me, not yet. She said what a lot of people in her position are fond of saying." You are a project away from us working together." Which is shorthand for, there is too much work to do with you at your current state and once you are discovered, I'll jump on the bandwagon because I have not an original belief in my head. Sorry, but that is how I see it. Most Hollywoodlanders need those creative few show them whats up. Then, when it is sufficiently safe, they jump on board with false bravado and bullshit stories of how they knew and believed in you way back when.

Thank god I was soon to meet one such director but the managers words would help to make this connection stick. She said that she had been observing me at her party. That it was obvious that I was trying to be a "good girl." To be "liked." That I was putting on a mask basically. She shared that the good directors want to work with the actors who" know who they are authentically and show up that way. "

In others words, if I am shy, that is how I should show up. If I am a bitch or rude by nature, don't curb it. If I am a jokey kind of girl or an airhead without affectation but in my essence , that is how I must show up.

WOW. She had given me permission to just be me. That I was actually enough. It blew my mind. I was still so young and was not sure who I was. Moving around so much as a young girl, I was constantly changing myself to fit into a new social group at a new school. Old catholic money one year, new Jewish community the next. It was mind boggling and that combined with my very young childhood [another blog all unto itself] added to a loss of my identity.

So I did some soul searching. And I realized that when I first met people, I was shy. That was at least one truth I could grasp. That I and been entering auditions all positive and happy and bright. Regardless of what I was feeling. It was all so false. No wonder I was often rejected. That and the fact that as an aspiring actress you receive mostly rejection. Its the nature of the beast.

The other thing I did was not share my truth about what I had read. I would act like I liked the script even if I did not. There could be no real communication about the project unless I showed up honestly. Easier said then done. This one would be a tricky line to walk. But what I was doing was not working.

I digested this new information for a bit but in a short amount of time I would put it to the test. I was called excitedly by my agent. I had a meeting with an amazing filmmaker who was doing a tv series. David Lynch. Now I was not too familiar with his work, but I had seen the unforgettable and incredibly disturbing Blue Velvet. My agent encouraged me to rent The Elephant Man and I did.

I was touched so deeply to the very core of my being by this film. It was so different in tone from Blue Velvet. This man was a great director. My god. What a heartbreaking film. How much truth and depth..... I will never forget it and although it is absolutely difficult to watch at times, it is one of my favorite films.

I love most films like this. They resonate with me. Moments so personal , so painful they are actually hard to watch. They pierce ones soul. Like in Truly, Madly, Deeply when she is sobbing so hard you begin to as well. Like being at a birth of child and you find yourself bearing down and pushing as the mother to be does so. Another film I adore is Who's afraid of Virginia Wolfe.

Having played Elizabeth Taylor and vigilantly searching for the woman and not the legend/icon. I personally found this to be the role that came closest to revealing the woman. Not to mention the intense dynamic that existed between she and Richard Burton. Especially in the later days. That and some candid, unrehearsed footage of her were the keys for me. And I love her to this day.

While I watched David's second film, the script was being sent to me. I usually had to go get my scripts, they were not being delivered....yet. But since it was Sir David Lynch, they made an exception. After the emotional film, I am sure I most likely put on a pot of chicken soup, a constant in my life even today, I sat and awaited the arrival of the holy grail. It was not at that point called Twin Peaks. It was something with northern in it, but I cannot remember it. Maybe Northwest passage?!

I had not to date met a truly great director. Not one. I was scared. All that the manager had said was running through my mind. I started to contemplate what I might wear. But quickly realized I needed to read the script first. I was told it would not be a reading, just a meeting. That was not how this unique man worked. He would simply have meetings and in talking to you would decide if and where you fit into the beautiful world he was creating.

As I read the script I must admit that I did not find it so incredible. It was no Elephant Man. My agent kept referencing Peyton Place but this meant nothing to this young person. It read like a soap opera. Hence the reference but Blue Velvet meets Peyton Place. That was the one line pitch. I challenge anyone to have read it , in and of itself and guessed what it turned into. I inexperienced as I was could not see it. But was excited nonetheless. Be the magical hand of David Lynch would be touching it.

So there were the three options of roles for me as far as I could tell. The dead girl, Laura Palmer. The sweet girl who always cried, Donna Hayward. Or the sexy waitress who was being abused by her mean husband, Shelley. Sorry, I cannot remember her last name. [A tweetybird reminded me its Shelley Johnson. Thank you] Although in my life I was most like Donna, I did not think I could carry a show the way she had to. Let alone cry scene after scene. I would more than likely be seen as Shelley.

You see, there was NO AUDREY HORNE at this point. Sad but true. But ultimately not so sad as it turned out, right!!!!!

I remember sitting in the waiting room at Propaganda Films. My heart pounding out of my chest. Looking around at a few other girls no doubt experiencing the same emotions. Remembering what the manager said. Just be yourself. Just be yourself, was my mantra. Then my name was called. ldgutikehgsvrjmthnjbhvgfdsguritoyuiytyrtefwgshdjfmgnbvcdh!!!!!

The head shot they had was me in a black turtleneck with very short platinum blond hair. Very overexposed and artsy. It was why David brought me in. My hair had since been dyed to it dark color again. David immediately spoke of that. In fact, he did most the talking because I was being as I am in my life....shy. How I had to fight every impulse to be chipper and all this other stuff I had pretended to be in auditions and my young life up until now. And if forced him to talk more than he was accustomed to.

He said the picture reminded him of his daughter with the blond hair and all . A woman would I would come to know, love and work on one of my most intense jobs with. Boxing Helena. She is simply brilliant. Of course I am speaking of Jennifer Lynch. Again, this is another blog altogether. But did you know that Jen wrote the book of Laura Palmer's diary that came out while the show aired?! A little trivia.

David was kind and funny. Not at all what I expected. He was quirky but in an innocent way. I thought he'd be dark but he was not. Only the recesses of his mind were. Who's are not. And he had the courage to look at it. Through his work. The best description I have ever heard of him was Jimmy Stewart from Mars. That is the perfect one, to me.

Then he asked if I liked the script. Uh-oh!!!!!! The moment of truth. So far, I was true to me. Would I share my perspective? Could I??? It was nothing less than a character defining moment. A turning point in my life. The beginning of telling the truth. I said there, a huge lump in my throat, I felt like I couldn't breathe. He stared at me with a slight smile, prompting.....

I finally said.... well..... yea..... I thought it was ok...... He just looked at me. Not upset but wanting to hear more of my inexperienced perspective. And....... it seems like everyone is sleeping with everyone else. He smiled and seemed to appreciated my honesty. We finished and I left. Relieved to be finished and prayerful that it went well.

I got home to find an urgent message on my answering machine. My agent. Call asap. I was told that although it seemed that David was not offended, the casting director was outraged. She said I should've been more positive and tried to talk more and have more energy. It was devastating. Maybe that stupid fucking manager was wrong. Clearly she was and I blew a huge opportunity in the process.

I don't remember how long it was before I got the next call. But I do remember feeling lost and depressed. Wondering if I should even do this stupid Hollywood thing. Pulled out chicken soup again and isolated .

But the magic call came. One of the few I can count on one hand in this business that I will not ever forget. It seemed that the casting person was wrong. So wrong. That David loved me, wanted me on the show and was actually WRITING a role for me!!!!!!!! WHAT???!!!!!

I remember where I was standing as I got that call. I freaked out. I played it cool on the phone, mocking the casting directors earlier criticism. Hung up and lost it!!!! Jumping, screaming, laughing and crying. So much so that my crazy neighbor knocked on my door to check that I was ok. She then joined me in my celebratory dance and busted into some praise God's.

That David Lynch saw something in me that no one really had, save my dear agent of many years, was astounding to me. I am forever indebted to him. And frankly, I kind fell a little in love with him. As a patient does with a doctor that saves her and nurses her back to health.

It seemed for the moment, I had been saved.

The mask continues to come off. A rant.

So last night I made the mistake of taking in some judgemental comments about the fact that I am sharing my DIRECT experience with PRN. It was frankly the first negative feedback I have gotten. Although oddly enough the reader kept reading and felt the need to leave four posts, two on two different blogs.

That it upset me so much simply speaks to a habit which is not great of mine. To dismiss the good that is said or seen in me and masturbate with the bad. Keep in mind, it was the only person who wrote ugly things. So I thank the person who shared because I got to see another part of myself to work on.

I promised myself I would not read comments for this very reason and am contemplating not reading anymore. But that would give them and my false beliefs about myself too much power. I will simply continue as I did with the one in question and gladly DELETE these judgements. Because, you see, this is MY blog and I share on it MY truth. And last time I checked I live in America where I am allowed to do so.

What I have shared so far has not disparaging in any way. So I put out my disclaimer to all who visit this site that I did in my very first blog. I say that if what I write is a problem for you, simply do not read. I will continue to share my truth about PRN and the many other subjects that I have addressed with unwavering honesty. If you do not have something nice to say don't.

I would share that in my experience, one should take their laser like analysis of others and put it on themselves. I experience in my life that people do so much projection of their own issues onto others. I once heard and never forgot: The bigger the reaction, the more personal the material. A good thing to keep in mind.

I also feel it is a time on the planet where we are all needing to look at and deal with our own personal stuff. You know, the stuff conscious and unconscious that informs everything we say and do. The stuff we avoid or where a mask to pretend it does not exist.... I feel it is wise to get clean and clear. I am fond of saying that we can do it with willingness and grace, or be pulled along kicking and screaming. But make no mistake, it is the sign of times and the current will pull you, like it or not. You make a choice of how that will look.

To put my focus on myself regarding my reaction to the ugly words...... I have always had insight and been beat up for stating it. I am the one screaming that the emperor is naked and speaking to the pink elephant in the room. It would never be my intention to hurt anyone. And I do not feel I have in this instance. Nor will I hurt myself by not honoring my truth and my desire to share it. I believe it is a uniting force. It is how I worked as an actress but I had to weave my truth between the lines of another. Now, I am discovering the courage to just say my truth with my own words and will not be silenced by judgmental and fearful people.

So to close, if you take issue with my words or story, it is very simple.....don't read it. And for all those who have read, followed and got it. I am eternally grateful to you all. You are assisting me forging a new path. One that is headed towards light. So thank you, thank you, thank you.

With much love and light.

sherilyn